letter-writing practices
Patty
is a little acquainted with
Mrs. Charles Wesley , and says she is a very worthy, respectable person, a perfect
Gentlewoman, of good family and Education. She has also
a daughter, a young Woman of considerable parts and literature. When I knew
a little of her some years ago indeed, she was more of a Wit than
a
Methodist, but I really believe they are both excellent, deserving Women.
Of their circumstances I cannot speak so accurately, private
fortune they certainly have none.
Father John, as he was called allowed them £200 pr.
An: during his Life, and we have heard that at his death he
desired the
Society
to allow them £70 Pr.
Ann: This I believe is all they have. We think they live with the
two Sons
who support themselves by Music, but were not comfortable Sons to
their excellent father.
By to day’s post I shall write to a friend to inform myself
more exactly as to their circumstances, certainly making no
mention of you in the business. Wesley’s
Society
I believe is very poor, his restrictions in the Article of dress
&c having always frightened away the rich and gay, where /as
they/ cou’d now and then sneak into
Whitefield’s, who seemed to have judged more prudently in not acquiring any
such outward and visible sign of conformity. –
Mrs. W
and all of you must have thought me if not “rather a kind of
imposter”, yet rather a kind of a brute not to have written a
word since we parted, so kind as you all were to me! But I know
how you are overdone with writing and I spare you every
unnecessary line.
To speak the truth I have been a little worked myself and
for the few last days have been confined to my bed by one of my
feverish colds; I am sitting up a little to day but not in very
good writing plight having a blister on my back as broad as
little William’s face.
I wonder if I shall ever see that said little William? –
To thank you over-warmly for your feeling and affectionate
letter would be to imply that it was possible I coud have
suspected your large liberality and considerate kindness .
I shall obey you by dedicating
Mrs. Barnards kind legacy to
the purchase of a post Chaise, and her Annuity to the
maintaining it . I
hope I shall keep within the limits of your allowance.
Any two periods of the year it will be the same to me to receive
it. Christmas and Midsummer are my usual grand seasons, but if a
Month or two or three later will suit you better, I can manage
as I shall have some money of my own to take.
I believe I shall have occasion to write to you soon on an
opening for doing good at
Exeter
where nothing has yet been done in any of the Churches.
An inflammation in my eyes making a part of my indisposition
compells me to end –
I write a few lines to thank you for your kind solicitude about
me,
when you yourself were probably suffering so much
more. Mrs. R. T. confirms the
account of your very oppressive cold, Which I hope /will be
removd by/
the blessing of God on this fine change in the weather,
for it is now raining green pease and goosebery Tarts: and our
grass, which on Sunday was as brown as a Mat is now as green as an
Emerald.
I thank God my fever has given way and I am again much
better,
tho I had an ague fit the night before last, as I generally
have on every change of weather.
I heartily rejoyce at
the improvd account of
Mr.
T.
Lady Waldegrave
who spent a long day here Yesterday
(which prevented my writing) thinks
he looks tolerably. In addition to her heavy sorrows,2 she is now
involv’d in two or three /law/ suits which are this moment trying
at Our Assizes, and in which, as her Antagonist (her late Steward)
a friend of
Mr. Bere’s3
a deep designing Man has made a party against her, I fear she will
be cast. Every thing however which relates to money is a trifle
compared with her other causes of sorrow.4
Charemile
and
Lady W.
&c tell me they never see or hear of
Mrs. W
– I am disgusted at her want of decency, to say the least, in not
concealing her satisfaction at quitting a place, so pleasant so
advantageous /so congenial/ to
her husband .7 The change must be an immense expence.
W.
and I have had a good deal of intercourse a few weeks ago about
Mr. T.’s
health – We agreed in thinking, that more relaxaxation [sic]
from business without travelling about, and renouncing the
comforts and accommodations of his
pleasant home, was the best thing for him
at this time of year.
I hope he does relax and that you will soon if the Spring
shoud ever begin, get to
Battersea
for your sake especially. – Shoud You see
Charemile
will you tell tell her that
I will write to her on her kind proposal soon,
and that we are soon looking out for the Barrister the Circuit
being nearly over.8 I agree with you in wondering that your
agreeable Nephew
coud overlook that agreeable girl and chuse one so inferior both
in mind and person.9 How can you read
Godwin
by way of learning to do good? An avow’d Atheist? An acquaintance
of mine,
Miss Lee
woud have married him she said had he been only an Infidel, but he
denied a first course.10 To me his writings are the blackness of
darkness. Hume by his elegance, and Voltaire by his wit and the
charms of his style are seducing. But tell Mr.
T. if he reads it, not to let others read it, for I remember at
Xt Church
Miss Creswell
and
Miss Schim
were frightened at his reading Hume’s
Essays
to them11 They were not then so strong in Religion as they are
since become. Seriously I think Plays and Novels safe
reading compared with books of subtel sophistry and promiscuous
reasoning – I dont mean that you may not pack /up/ up good things
in them. I have not yet read the C. O.12 but have run over
Ingram13
which is very good, the second part I thought
leaned a little more to Calvinism than I do, that is I
thought it woud give the C. O. a rather more
Calvinistic Air than it has lately assumed
I am glad the C. O. takes up the
Bp of Saint David’s
Plan14 – I have been in constant correspondence (when able) [wi]th
[tear] this good Bp on the Subject ever [s]ince [tear] he planned
it. It is to raise the character morals, learning & piety of
the Welch Clergy. I hardly know so pressing a cause. There will
unavoidably, to save his credit be mixd with it a little too much
High Church
but we must be glad to do something if we cannot do all that is
wanted. I subscribe and propose leaving a legacy to the St.
David’s Plan. The building a sort of Welch College was partly my
Suggestion. –
Most heartily have I sympathized, and still do sympathize with
you,
under this tedious and trying attack of
Mr. T. We talk of it almost
continually, and having heard nothing for some time, I was
willing to flatter myself that he was getting on, but a
letter from
Mr.
Babington
yesterday
does not give so favourable a report of his progress as we had
hoped.
This induces me to write rather in a hurry to ask you to let
one of the young ones, send a line now and then till he is
better.
This is my first letter since my visitation. – not but that
I could write, for my Sword Arm escaped the
fire.
But thro’ the extreme and undeserved kindness of my friends, I
suppose there have been not much less than a hundred letters of
inquiry to answer, and tho it sadly overloads
P.
who is not well and assisted by
S
– yet I forbear writing to those to whom I wishd that I might
conscientiously say I had written to none – this has given me a
little time for my other business.
I have generally managed in the same way with visitors, which I
believe includes every creature /(visitible)/ within ten Miles,
so that having so good an excuse I have rather gained time than
lost.
I have heard twice lately from
Lady Olivia
but have not yet written to her.
The excursion to the Lakes seems to have quite answered; tho it
appears she found every thing in it, except that
rest which was the professed Object of the tour.
More on her Subject when I have more time
If I sent you all the good wishes I am desired to send, my
paper would not hold them
I am very anxious about your own health which I fear must
suffer .
I fear too that mind has had a good deal to do with
Mr. T.
illness, or rather that previous feeling had disposed
his body to receive any illness more severely than might
otherwise have been the case
–
I am so hurried I know not what I write –
I am ashamed to have received such
a kind and interesting letter from you, tho’ I had not put myself in the way to deserve it, by my
delaying to thank dear
Miss Sparrow
for hers.
I will account for my silence before I close. I must say that not
any of your friends, warm and numerous as they are, took a deeper
interest in your feelings on your first appearance in the world,
after so long and sad a seclusion from it. And its being the first
entrée of your beloved daughter added not a little to that
interest. I cordially congratulate you both, your Ladyship on the
end of your fatigue, and dearest Millicent on her passing through
the fiery ordeal unhurt, and because unhurt, therefore brighter
than she went in. I bless God that through his grace she is
enabled to maintain such a steady consistency of conduct under
circumstances so peculiarly trying, especially at her age. God has
bestowed on her all that this world has to give, partly to shew
her that all is nothing, but as it is connected with eternity, as
it furnishes her with more and higher opportunities of glorifying
her heavenly father, and enables her to shew that the Christian
religion is a reality; that divine grace operates on the
practice as well as /on/ the heart and is the same glorious
principle which directs in difficulties, sustains in calamity, and
sanctifies in prosperous circumstances.
I had proposed being beforehand with you, not as a specimen of
rapidity and punctuality, of which I am not likely hereafter to
support the character but to express my gratitude to you for
the sealed paper I found on my table, mixed however with a little chiding at your /too/ large
liberality.
You will I trust allow me to divide that portion of it intended to
assist piety and literature in one young and most deserving
Collegian, into two or three – you will have /the/ pleasure
hereafter of having contributed to advance learning and religion
in these promising characters.
Now for the reason why I did not write on Saturday –
Since you left us I have had and still have, a most severe
bilious attack which I am thankful waited your departure
before it appeared,
as
I should have been grieved to have lost any of the little time
in which I was within reach of enjoying your Society.
I dont know whether I was most glad or sorry at receiving
your kind letter
last night, glad at hearing from you and that you were embarked
in Bath-drinking, or sorry that your letter was a substitute for
your appearance, as we were not till then without some faint
hope of getting another peep of you.
The stings of my conscience get the better of all impediments
to writing, and
while I am constantly eating you at breakfast, and
drinking you at dinner
I can no longer rest under the load of ingratitude of not
cordially thanking you for the affectionate interest you take in
my health by your kind present of
Arrow Root *
– I must just observe by the way that it would have been more
speedy as well as safe had both been directed to me at
Mr. Adorns’s Wine Street Bristol.
I this moment receive your too kind letter, and tho it is late,
and tho it is not a writing day,* and
tho
I have been so unusually ill the whole week ,
I could not sleep if I did not send you a line. I cannot
express the vexation the mortification, I feel at your not
having got
the book
from me.
* I directed not
Hatchard, but
Cadell the Publisher
who is always the dispenser of presents because they are
sent a few days before publication to send one the very
first hour to
Bruton Street
– and you have not had it – I should have ordered it to
Huntingdon
with the Bishop's but you my dearest Lady preferred your town
House. Such a thing ought not to vex me so much as it
does. If you do not find it in Bruton Street – which you will be
charitable enough to tell me, I will order
Hatchard
/Cadell/ to send you the very first of the 2d.
Edition, which as the delay has been already so great will I hope
put you in possession of a more correct copy. Believe me, it is
not that I overrate the Book, by laying so much stress on this
disappointment, but that I cannot bear the suspicion of neglect,
where both my affections, my esteem and my gratitude are equally
concerned.
I hope you got a letter from me a few days ago; thanking you
for the reviving Squish
[sic].
Of The books to which you allude I know nothing. I will send to
the Hotel. How can you be so good and kind? – I know
not what they are but I am sure they are a fresh instance of
your unwearied generous friendship
I have not allowed myself to read your letter to the very end,
but snatched up my pen to ease my mind. I will now finish
it.
Being to day under the disqualifying dominion of
Calomel*, I can only write a
hasty line on the principal topics of your little /but/ kind
letter.
As far as two sickly human beings can venture to
determine, P. and I hope to appear to you
at
Brampton Park by the middle of
May;
but
the precarious state of
my eldest Sister adds to our uncertainty,
tho she is much /better/
Your last joint kind & interesting letter was so full of
encouragement that we lived contentedly for a week on the good
hopes it held forth.
But we have just heard with the deepest concern that things are
not so promising. I cannot bear to tieze you or
Marianne
who has her hands full as well as yourself – but let one of the
younger children write constantly
I would not let any one write but myself tho’ my eyes are
nearly gone,
but my own cannot tell you how tenderly I feel for you, & how
very very deeply we are interested in the cause of your anxious
cares God grant that your dear
excellent husband
may be speedily restored to your prayers, to my prayers to the
prayers of the poor & of the Church
How can
I write to you or how can I forbear to write? I have however
postponed it, well knowing that you want no such consolations as
I can suggest.
My sincere sympathy and my fervent prayers are all I have to
offer you. My grief is softened by the knowledge of many
merciful circumstances; one is that you are surrounded by so
many enlightened and truly Christian friends; another and the
principal one, is the cheering report they all give of the
deeply submissive and resigned spirit with which you bow to this
most trying dispensation. In the midst of my sorrow
I bless God that he has enabled you to give this evidence of
your faith in him, and of the truth of Christianity itself,
which can afford such supports under such trials .
Still my dear friend, allow me to say I fear for you – I do not
fear that your resignation will diminish, or your fortitude
forsake you – I trust that the same divine grace will continue to
support your soul; but I fear for your body, I
fear that the very elevation of your feelings will be obtained,
at the price of your health sinking under your Efforts . I am afraid you will think me but a worldly counsellor when I
say, I wish you not too much to restrain your
tears, or to labour to suppress emotions which Nature dictates and
which grace does not forbid. Your life is now of increased
importance, your value to your dear children is doubled. The
duties of two parents instead of one are now devolved upon you. I
know these sort of arguments are frequently made use of to
stop the signs and outward expressions of grief, but I
know the make of your mind so well that I employ them with a view
to induce you not to put a /too/ violent restraint on your natural
sensibilities fearing the pent up sorrow may prey more inwardly on
the heart and the health.
Some kind friend near you has sent us a line every day, but
merely of sympathy and kindness, and to say how you were. Of our
dear sainted friend we know no particulars, those they will send
us I doubt not soon. For ourselves we shall long mourn; for him if our
imperfect vision could see things a[tear] they are, we should do
nothing but rejoy[ce] [tear]
He is gone to the resting place of the just. His life has left
us an example of rare purity, of integrity seldom equalled, of
consistent piety, of charity almost boundless. I shall reckon it
among my responsibilities of the day of general Account if I am
not the better for having so long and so intimately known him .
I hope you are still enjoying the profitable and very pleasant
Society
[deletion].
He
cribbed me sadly in the time he bestowed on us.
If he has not left you be so good to tell him that I received
his valuable present of
Fenclon.*It was indeed paying me for my
Bristol Stones with Jewels of the first water.
Pray tell him also that I was afraid, that thro the well meant
folly of stupid
Bulgin
he had not receved [sic] a copy both for himself and
Mr. Le Touche , but have at last the satisfaction to find that he did.
I woud write to himself but from the fear that he has left you,
and if not this will save him the trouble of a letter
I hope to see him again. The loss of such friends as we have lost
makes us cling still closer to those of the same class who remain
to us – I am ready to exclaim with
Wilberforce
in his last letter – Who next Lord?
Tho I sent you a few days ago a longer letter than I write to
any body else, yet I thought you would wish to hear from me on a
Subject so interesting to you.
The day after
Mr.
Hodson
got my letter he and
his pupil
presented themselves in the morning and spent the day here. With
the latter I had only general intercourse, my chief
object with him being
to make myself as pleasant as my state of health allowed , and to remove any prejudice he might have entertained of my
being severe and dictatorial. While I sent him walking and talking
with
young Gisborne, I took the Tutor into my room for a couple of hours. I will as
nearly as I can recollect, tell you our chief discourse. His first
endeavour has been /not/ to give him any disgust, but to gain his
affection. He finds him conformable and complying with his
injunctions, but not in habits of application, or much given to
reading He is more anxious at first to bring him to stated habits
and a regular disposition of time than to force too much reading
upon him till he discovers more liking to it. At half past 8 he
gives him, I think about a dozen verse of
the Greek Testament
to study and meditate upon alone. At Nine he sets him to construe
those passages to him and after they have discussed the
Greek in a literary and grammatical point of view, he then
expounds them to him spiritually and Theologically: then their
devotions and a little walk before breakfast. I suggested that as
he is inclined to sit over his Meals that a short thing, a medium
sort of reading such as a paper in
the Rambler * might be well taken up. His Mornings are at present
engaged with
Quintilion
whom they study /both/ separately and together. I ventured to give
my opinion that as he would fill a great station in the world, and
was not much addicted to study it might be well to endeavour to
imbue his mind with general knowledge such as would be
useful in life, and to allure him to the perusal of history and
Travels; to make him learn a passage from
the Orations of Demosthenes or Cicero, in the Greek & Latin and then to translate and recite them
in English, and to labour after a good manner of
recitation. Mr.
H. told me, and Mr.
S. himself told
my Sisters
that they had spent their time in the most trifling manner at
Harrow, and that very little was required of them there. In consequence
Mr.
H says his habits of conversation are too frivolous, horses &c
&c being the favorite theme. Before evening prayer Mr.
H. reads and again expounds Scripture. This he says is all the
formal religious instruction he gives, for he /is/ afraid
to weary him, but he tries to make their walks, their common
reading instructive. I insisted much on the necessity &
importance of this, knowing it is the best way to mix up
instruction with the common pursuits of life. They sometimes dine
and drink tea out, but as it is in correct and pious company, I
thought it better for his youth than to be confin’d to a tete a
téte always with his Tutor. The latter likes his young
friend who has yet given him not the slightest cause of complaint.
I have not room to say a word in addition to the topic which
was my Object in writing
Adieu my dearest Lady
ever Yours
Conceiving that you will be glad to hear from time to time a
word from me respecting
your Son,
I resolve to scribble a line, tho yesterday was a peculiarly
bad day.
Mr. Sparrow his Tutor and
Mr. Hensman spent a long day
here lately.
I took Mr.
H. as usual into my room; we had a very long discussion, and I
required an explicit account of their goings on, which he very
minutely gave me. I have the satisfaction of reporting that every
thing seems very promising; if the improvements are not rapid they
are at least progressive. At my request he has begun to attempt
composition. He reads
Watts’s Logic*and Mr.
H. makes observations on their joint perusal both of that and
whatever else they read together. As the days lengthen he
rises earlier which gives him more time for the
Greek Testament
before breakfast. He is translating some passages from
Demosthenes* which will help to form his Style. I suggested that
here after he should learn and recite some fine passages in
Burke’s Speeches.*
He reads by himself more than he did, and I lent for that
purpose
Plutarch’s Lives ;* and
Travels thro Germany .* I have also
presented
sent him
with
the Saint Paul of Barley Wood ,* which he has promised to read; I told him that
being written by one who had the honour to be his Mother’s friend,
it might interest him more. Mr.
H. says that tho he cannot say he sees as yet any
decided piety, yet he has great pleasure in seeing that
he [has] not the slightest prejudice against religion or religious
people. This is /a/ great point for ‘a
Harrow
fellow’.* But what I rejoyced at as the most gratifying
circumstance, was that he told me he possessed great purity of
mind. This is a blessed thing at an age when boys have commonly
their minds tainted.
May God’s blessing preserve it to him!
I think
Clifton
a very fortunate situation for him. I think now he is getting a
step towards manhood he would hardly endure the dullness &
total want of society of an obscure Village, where he woud
probably be too solitary, or led into inferior company. Now at
Clifton their little social intercourse is entirely among
religious, and well mannered people, and his Sunday’s Instruction
sound and good. It was Providential for poor distressed Hensman to
get Hudson to fill at once the Niche so fortunately
vacated by
Cowan,* or he might have forced himself into it again at
his return. There appears to subsist a pleasant affection and
confidence between the Tutor and Pupil and Hensman says the latter
has easy access to his house where he often calls, and
where he will get nothing but good. I have said so much about this
interesting youth that I have left myself no room for other
Subjects.
I was meditating a letter to you my dearest
Lady Olivia
just as your very kind one reached me; and
ever since have been prevented by shoals of company succeding
each other so quickly as to leave no interval for any thing I
liked. Alas! Alas! I did hope our summer would not have begun
so early.
I take most kindly and so does
Patty
your very feeling enquiries.
She has had a very bad winter, her state is weak and I have had
great apprehensions on her subject. Her spirits are sometimes
depressed which is inseparable from bile and fever. I am however
thankful to say that the last few days she is considerably
better, so that I hope, if it be the will of God, she may rally
with the Summer. We shall all I trust be better when we are
blessed with a west wind.
You are very good to express so kind a wish to see us at
Brampton. Few things would give us more pleasure.
But I really think home is the only place for
invalids, tho the sick in general seem to act on the direct contrary
principle But there is another reason – we have already refused
some invitations, to travel with /some/ friends and to go
to meet others. Among the latter dear
Mrs. H. Thornton * wished us to join her at
Malvern
in case she should be able to go. It was with reluctance I was
obliged to say I feared we should not be able to accomplish it;
tho, her sad situation considered, if we did any thing, it ought
to be with a view of seeing her. Notwithstanding her Christian
exertions,
every letter from her seems to wear a deeper shade of woe.
I will not lose time by sending this about to beg a Frank
As I am writing to the
Bishop of Saint David’s
I would not lose the occasion of telling you that he is ‘the
pious, learned and laborious Prelate’* to which you
refer in
your very obliging letter . He treats the Subject more at large in a little work against
the Catholic Claims entitled
‘Christ the Rock and not Saint Peter’*. But I must recommend a more recent publication of
his Lordship’s with a view to the
Socinian* friend to whom Your
verses
are addressed* – it is called
‘The Bible and nothing but the Bible the Religion of the Church
of England’ * addressed to the
Socinians. It is I think an able refutation, and, (which I always think a
good quality in Controversy) it is a brief one.
Pray pardon this erasure. By mistake I write it in your Letter,
instead of the Bishop’s which lay open before me.
Yes my dear friend I must write a few lines, though doubtless
you are oppressed with the kindness of friends whose sympathy
shares in your sorrows without being able to mitigate them.
Truly do I mourn with you over this second very deep wound . Both are most mysterious – we must adore now & we shall
understand hereafter.
Mr. Stephen &
Lord Teignmouth most feelingly communicated
to me the last sad intelligence. Written a fortnight ago!
Very pleasant were they in their lives, &
in their death they were not divided I had looked to dear
Bowdler as one of the principal stays you had to lean upon, a
counsellor & comfort to yourself & a monitor &
example to your children.
But Gods Ways are not as our Ways. Poor dear
Mary Gisborne * may He comfort her – no one else can
What an effort my dear friend did you make to write me those
few kind lines.
Mr. Melville
– Whom I take to be a son of
Lord Leven’s*, finished the letter in a way that has made him
Stand high in my opinion. It was written in a fine spirit,
&
will you thank him for me
It would give you a sort of sad consolation to see how every
one who writes to me expresses themselves on the Subject of your
beloved
Husband. Sorrow makes even
Lord Gambier
eloquent.
Mr.
Dunn
who has been staying with us is always sublime . From men like these who could judge & feel his Merit one
expected it but I was pleased with an expression of the General
feelings in more ordinary Men living in the turmoil of trade which
is apt to blunt the feelings, but whose Shop is crowded with the
first sort of Men.
I mean my bookseller,
Cadell, who writes thus ‘The death of your distinguished friend has
excited a sensation of grief, more general & distressing
than we remember to have witnessed’
This was said of the feelings of the world at large – my other
letters being from religious men. Said no more than was expected
of them.
I am truly anxious about your health. Grace may enable you to
subdue your mind but I fear Your body will not be so submissive.
Every time you look on your sweet children, this duty will be
pressed homeward to you – in a way you will not be able or willing
to resist. I know not yet whether you have returned to
Clapham. The events of these last three Weeks form the Chief Subject of
our conversation. I think much of you – at a time when I hope you
are not thinking of yourself – in the dead of night – for my
nights are in general bad.
We have paid to our departed friend the tribute of wearing
mourning – it is nothing to the dead, but may testify to the
living who are about us, our reverence for exalted piety &
virtue.
Though our friends have been very kind, they are naturally so full
of their own sorrows that it is some time since I have heard
especially of you.
Will you let one of the little ones Send a line to say ‘Mama is
better or worse’
Poor
Wilberforce
he has lost a great part of himself – his right-hand in all great
& useful measures, heavily indeed will he go down to the
House of Commons
without his ‘own peculiar friend’.*
Jebbs Sermons * are beautifully attractive, sweetly elegant and
highly polished as to style, and exhibiting Religion in her most
amiable dress, and her most lovely lineaments, but certainly not
abounding in the prominent exhibition of certain important
doctrines. They abound however with invitations and incentives to
holiness and from a pleasing transcript of his own pure mind. They
are, I think, best suited to those who have already made a
progress in religion as they by no means take in its grand scheme
and scope.
I greatly love the Man, and was much disappointed that his
sudden recal on the death of his brother stopped him on his
journey hither. * Pray see all the interesting Society at
Bellevüe, especially
Mr. Knox , but take especial care that your ears do not run away with your
heart, for he has a most fascinating eloquence. With great mutual
regard we disagree on some very momentous points. As a teacher of
holiness, and an inspirer of contempt for the world he has
scarcely an equal. He is a good deal of a Mystic.
You see how openly I write to you even respecting my real
friends and favorites. I know my confidence in you is not
misplaced. Letters which are not written in that confidential
skein are not worth having, but the general habit would
be dangerous.
I have delayed writing from day to day till it should please
our gracious father to determine the fate of our beloved
Mrs. Thornton .
That afflicting event has now taken place near a week, and yet I have not had the heart to write.* You doubtless have been informed by
the same kind hand
with myself, of the fatal progress and final termination! God’s
will be done! This we must not only say but submissively
assent to under dispensations the most trying.
And surely the removal of our dear friend is a very trying as
well as Mysterious dispensation.
To herself the charge is most blessed. To her children the loss is
most irreparable.
Poor dear Orphans! little did we think a year ago of
this double bereavement! but let us bless the God
and father of our Lord Jesus Christ that he enabled this
suffering friend to bear her dying testimony to his faithfulness
and truth . Never was a sweeter death than that so feelingly painted by
Mr.
Wilberforce How strong must have been that faith which not only
lifted her so much above all worldly considerations /but/ which
enabled /her/ to commit her beloved children, about whom her
anxiety had been so excessive, to the father of the fatherless. It
has pleased God to raise them, among many friends,
Mr.
and
Mrs. Inglis
to whose care she consigned, and who have generously accepted the
charge. They are peculiarly fitted for the purpose, sensible,
pious, amiable, strongly attached to the Thorntons and without
children of their own. Thus is the saying illustrated that
the Seed of the Righteous shall never be forsaken.*
My opinion is that Mrs. T is dead of suppressed
grief.
She reminds me of part of an Epitaph I have seen, only changing
the word day for Year
Your letter affords so little hope of the continuance of
her
earthly existence that
I think there is more true kindness in writing to you, as are
without any expectation as to this world, than to labour to
administer false comfort; to do this would not be doing justice to your strength of
character and to the lessons of wisdom you have been so long
imbibing. Who knows but your obvious submission to the Divine hand
which has inflicted these heavy strokes may not help to confirm
these principles of Christian piety /with/ which
Mr
Penington’s * mind seems penetrated.
God grant that the convictions of this estimable Man may end in
a sound conversion!
What joy would this give, not only to the Angels in heaven but to
the two happy Spirits who may soon be united to that blessed
Society. I do love this Penington. I cannot say what a
gratification it would be to me to be with you. It is for my own
sake I wish it, that I might learn how to die.
But my own infirm health, and still more that of
Patty would make us a burthen instead of
a comfort.
With such comforts indeed you are far more richly provided. I
cordially rejoyce that you are inclosed with such a circle of such
friends, and that those amiable and excellent
Inglis’s
are about to be added. My affectionate love to the patient
Sufferer. I am more disposed to ask comfort from her than
to offer it to her.
At length I have to thank you for
a most interesting nice long letter,
written on respectable whole sheets of Paper not
crammed
and stuffed by scraps into corners hardly decypherable for want
of space, but ample and liberal as to paper, as well as
delightful as to matter and manner. Whether this one only
symptom of good which your letters ever wanted be acquired by
your writing from
the large-hearted and liberal minded country you now
inhabit
(for such I have always conceived Ireland with all its faults to
be) or whether your desire of increasing my pleasure has
generously increased with your distance from me I shall not
enquire: in any case as I have the benefit so you have the praise –
I am sorry you saw so little of
Mrs. La Touche
I earnestly hope that visit will be yet made; to say nothing of
her residence
which I wish to see of all places, she is herself very
interesting, and a character of inestimable value. (by the way) I am astonished at what you tell me of
Mr. Knox , if there is any coolness it must be on
his part. I am sure it has not been on mine.
We have not indeed corresponded as largely as we used to do,
but he himself has apologized for it, from his other
pursuits.
My esteem for his virtues and admiration of his talents are great
and undiminished. We do not indeed think alike on certain
religious points and
Mr. Jebb
(whom I also much love) had the candor to tell me that our
difference in this matter was the reason why
he did not write to thank me for
my books .
but I did not know why this should make any coolness among
/Christian/ friends, I am sure it will make none in heaven, and I
am the last person who would lower my regard for a friend on
account of their opinion of my writings.
I shall hope to see both Knox and Jebb next Summer.
We have got a new Neighbour
Mr. C. Maude
a Son of
Lady Haywarden ,* who is curate of
Blagdon,
Lady Lifford &c wrote to recommend
him strongly to me.
He is but just three and twenty, very amiable with much naiveté
and good nature, takes advice kindly, and allows me to say any
thing to him, and I try to give my opinions in a fine cheerful way
not to frighten him. He has of course much to learn, being but
just escaped from
Christ Church ;* he is very kind to the poor and already much liked
by them, he seems humble, has no high notions, but talks of his
little self denials and frugal management with much openness.
I let him come when he likes and hope to be in some little
degree useful to him as I know the people . He is about to marry a very young Girl, much will
depend on her turn of Mind.
How have I run on.
I never write long letters but to you. Indeed I seldom write at
all to my real and beloved friends. My whole time almost goes to
strangers.
I think I have had no less than eight letters lately from
North America
where a good spirit of religion seems to prevail while
Virginia
and
the Southern Provinces
are as profligate and irreligious as Paris itself.
When little
Louisa
was up weeping last night
on receipt of
Mr. Wilberforce’s
letter,
she lifted up her hands and cried God bless dear little
Etta!
Truly happy shall we be to see you amp; Your Sister;* a
,
daughter
of yours you cannot doubt will be affectionately received.*
You must come and spend a long day.
Mrs. Hyde
will have told you that my poor Sister
Betty,
who was before very infirm has been keeping her bed five Weeks
with a wound in her leg.
I hope in a week or two she may be better able to enjoy seeing
you.
You will write and fix Your own day when it quite suits You.
Write a few days before hand, (as the post is not always exact)
lest we should any of us be from home, a circumstance however
which rarely occurs.
When you write pray thank your dear
Mother
for her affectionate remembrance of a family who will always
retain a great regard for her.
I should have returned you to your native land before now, but
that
I have been subject to even more than my usual interruptions
both from visitants and correspondents
I truly rejoyce to find you have gained so much in health and
spirits by your short migration
That you are not worse in other respects I am persuaded,
tho I will not grant the same latitude to one quarter of my
acquaintance who have made the same experiment. I hope therefore
you will not fulfil your menace of ‘persuading all your friends to
go directly,’ indeed almost all mine are gone, the very tradesmen
of
Bristol, the very Curates in our Neighbourhood are spending the Summer
in
Paris. So you see Volunteers need no pressing.
Your letter amused us much but really all accounts from that
city of sin make me laugh with the tears in ones eyes.
I have just got a letter from Paris from an learned and pious
Clergyman. The following is an Extract – ‘A friend of mine
attempted to get some Subscriptions for Les’s Bible at a Table
where he dined consisting of Frenchmen. He met with some little
success, tho it disclosed the character of some of his
acquaintance One Gentleman of wealth and intelligence on most
subjects, gravely enquired whither the
Bible
was a new Political or religious work which was to appear in
numbers? Another confessed that altho originally intended for a
Priest, and living for several years in the house of a kinsman
who was a Priest he had never seen a Bible’!! – These
two stories I would not have credited on inferior
authority.
It was so long since I had heard any thing of you that it gave
me particular pleasure to receive your letter, and to hear such
pleasant Accounts of yourself and friends.
What a delightful Society to have so many kind Aunts Uncles and
Cousins within a ring fence.
Mrs. D. Sykes
you know was always a favourite with me. I know less of the
others. You have drawn an interesting portrait of
Miss Thompson.* She must be a fine creature. I have answered her
letter which is what I cannot always do.
The keen Northern air* is I trust bracing your body,
while so many affectionate friends cheer your mind.
I too have suffered most truly for
Mr. Macaulay ,* and
am still not without anxiety for him.
Mrs.
M.
and Selina we had invited to spend a
fortnight with /us,/ and
it did her good after the fatigue of nursing her
poor Sister.
*
He met them half way back and by
that means confirmed his cold and cough into a fever.
I sent by
Mrs. M.
a certain pacquet of letters which are waiting your return in a
little box.
I did indeed mourn for
Mrs.
Stephen .
Her afflicted husband
wrote me a delightful character of her immediately on her
death.
Nor have I sustained a lighter loss in my beloved
Mrs. Hoare of
Mitchem. * The behaviour of
Mr. Hoare 7 is angelic.
Last night had me the report of the death of my sainted friend
Mr. Whalley . He seemed to be
the nearest heaven of any man left on earth.
It is a dying world. I seem to dwell among the tombs. Last night
black gloves were brought for us for the death of our oldest
friends. we were play fellows in childhood. God has given me many
warnings and a long time for preparation may it not be in vain!
We have had many of your friends and neighbours staying here
one after another.
The two Charles Grants – I thought the
Senior remarkably well and
I have a delightful long descriptive letter from him from the
Isle of Skie
[unclear].
Lord Calthorpe
his Sister and
Mr. Wilberforce (dear Creature)
spent three days with us the week before last
he was pretty well for him, all spirit, feeling & kindness as usual .
Lord C. has been at Bath for his health
and is better,
I rather think the
Gisbornes
are moving this way.
Young Elliot* spent the day here
yesterday
– he has good Sense, a correct taste and much piety
I am afraid you have thought me very /un/kind, and indeed
appearances are much against me. But besides the overwhelming
press of letters which always causes my answers to come slowly,
I have been for near a Month very ill with a wearing fever,
and am only beginning to recover a little ; this has put me much in arrears both in business and in
friendship
You would, were you not candor itself, think me a strange
Animal, not to have thanked you, both for your kind letter and
interest/ing/ present of books.
But in this seeming/ly/ quiet spot I can hardly give you an idea
what a scanty commodity time has been with me;
the continued bad state of my two Sisters ,
company very frequently, and
every interval filled with scribbling half penny and
penny compositions
. Tho I would have you to know, I am now rising in dignity and
importance, having just finished (what I hope may be my last) a
work that will be very costly three half pence, if not
actually two pence,
The Death of Mr. Fantom the new Fashioned
Reformist.* If not a very learned composition, I hope
it may be of some little use.
Mr. Dunn
jilted us again, and put me off with a letter instead of a
visit, his old practice; but he knows that in whatever shape he
appears he must always be acceptable.
I have had this Frank two days without finding a single quarter
of an hour to write; this morning I thought I had secured a
little time when
unexpect /ed/ ly poor
Lady Southampton came to spend /a/ good
part of the day .
She has had so many afflictions, (one sweet daughter has had
a
one leg cut off, and the other seems threatening the same
calamity)* that one cannot but feel a particular
interest for the Mother. She is entirely devoted to religion, and
lives in so profound a retirement that I am afraid it will not be
good for the young Lord who accompanied /her./ * I have
been pleading for the young people, who being only children cannot
be expected to be quite so abstracted as she wishes. The eldest
girl is very pious and to her, confinement is no
hardship. I have run on this long to account for the very short
time /I shall have/ to desire you to thank
Mr. Obins
for his very kind letter, and to thank you my very dear Lady
Olivia for your very kind few lines; but I must request you not to
think I am so unreasonable as to expect even a single line from
your own hand till your heart is more at ease.
The accounts from Falmouth were not very
encouraging. God grant the next may be more favourable! I long
to know the decision of the last consultation. I do not much
like your being driven out again on the ocean in the
tempestuous Season of the Equinox which is approaching. *
I am afraid too it is bad for your own health, which I must say
is no inconsiderable thing in the account current.
I gallop on hardly knowing what I write and without a minute to
read it, but I cannot bear to suffer another post to go out
without a line.
–
I have had several good books given me lately, among others
the life and Diary of Mrs. Graham
* an American which contains as much solid piety
expressed in as eloquent strains as I have often seen; for I am
not in general fond of Diaries.
‘Cowpers’ letters’
You have read by this time, and are I trust as much pleased with
them as I am.*
Chalmers Evidences ,*
White’s and
Beans Sermons ,* the two Preachers at Welbeck Chapel and two old
friends of mine have been also sent me /&
Blackmans Life ./ * I wish they could also send me time to read them.
Poor Patty is still in very bad health. I
am much troubled about her.
She joins me in every respectful and affectionate remembrance to
your Ladyship, Mr.
and Miss Sparrow and Mr.
Obins.
I do not trouble the latter with an answer because I write to
You which is the same
Pray tell him I think
Warner* a very trumpery fellow. He puts paragraphs from his
worthless Sermon in the Bath Paper every week, and sometimes
writes them in verse in the hope of discrediting the serious
Clergy /, which he seems to have much at heart./ *
A thousand thanks for your very kind letter from
London.
I cannot but feel rejoyced whenever I see your hand writing
and yet I rejoyce with trembling, when I reflect what an
expense of health and strength it may have been to you. Great
as the gratification is, I must beg you not to use your own
hand when you indulge me with any communication. I am sure you
have those feeling friends about you who would at once gladly
save you the pain and give me the pleasure.
To dear
Mr. Obins
I am already much indebted on this head. I do love him.
I trust you will pardon my long delay in answering your kind
letter. It has arisen from a variety of causes;
when I received it
I was very ill of a bilious fever ,
my two
Sisters
were confined at the same time, and we had nobody living down
stairs for near three weeks .
I am much better , but still an invalid, chiefly from want of sleep.
Patty has a complaint on her chest, and
constant fever, and is forbidden to talk , and
poor Sally is in a deplorable condition.
The dropsy is fallen on her legs which are much in the same
condition that
carried off my /last/
Sister .
All this is depressing to my Spirits I pray God to support them
and me during the short remainder of our pilgrimage.
If you see dear
Mrs. Kennicott
before I am able to write to her, give my [tear] to her and
tell her that sickness and all this writing, have made me
neglect
the
My friends, as far as outward attentions go, but I hope to mend
my ways.
Tho I have written so much to
your excellent companion, in answer to his kind letter, yet I cannot dispatch it
without a few lines to yourself.
Accept my heartfelt sympathy and cordial prayers; poor as they
are they are at all times offered up for you and yours and
especially at this hallowed and gracious Season; may all the
blessings it was meant to convey be yours, and those of your
dear party, even the blessings of redemption and the
consolations of God’s Holy Spirit.
Oh that I had wings like a dove, that I might fly to take a peep
at you in your Conventual retreat, sleep in one of your Cells, and
take a walk with you in the delicious Garden at which Mr.
Obins’s description makes my Mouth water.
Patty, who I thank God is not worse , joins me in the warmest wishes for your health, peace and
comfort.
May the Almighty be your guard your /guide,/ the strength of
your heart and your portion for ever!
How one feels the impotence of human friendship! to desire so much
and to be able to do so little, to do nothing!
I have delay’d answering dearest
Millicents excellent letter, from a daily expectation of this final
event, else what delightful matter /in her letter/ had I to
write about!
My dearest Lady you were Providentially sent to
Nice
for the purpose of converting that valuable Roman
Catholic
who I doubt not will be one of the many who will bless you in
heaven either for temporal or spiritual benefits. The frame of
mind visible in your daughter’s letter is admirable.
For all our sakes, but especially for her sake, I
exhort you, I beseech you take care of your health. There is yet
a great deal for you to do in this world You know not to how
many souls you may be the instrument of good. God has already
honoured you in this /way/
My poor health must plead my apology for my long silence; and
a complaint in my eyes must excuse the shortness of my
letter.
I cannot however longer restrain the desire I have to send you my
cordial congratulations on the happy prospect of your dear
daughter’s
union with a
Man
so every way worthy of her. Your character of
Mr. Welby
is most interesting; and pleases me so much that I am much
disposed to be
Felicia’s
rival and to fall in love with him myself. It is indeed a serious
blessing to unite her to a man who is likely to promote her
happiness in both /worlds/ and who will attend to her immortal
interests as well as to her present comfort. May God bless them!
Two mornings successively I have set aside for answering your
letter with one or two others,
but from breakfast till now when the dinner is almost ready,
I have had a number of visitors one after another till I lost
my patience as well as my time .
However tho I have lost a few minutes (for an inflammation in
my eyes prevents my doing any thing by candle light)
I snatch up my pen, as perhaps you may be waiting for an answer
respecting
Mr. Coan, thus he spells his name.* I am however not well qualified to give an opinion
as I do not know him at all. I believe him to be a very pious
young /man/ of the
Calvinistic School . But he is an Irishman with all the warmth and
impetuosity of his country. I should be grieved to say any thing
that might be injurious to a deserving Man but it /is/ my private
opinion that he would not be well calculated for the temperate
zone of
Clapham. He has got himself into two or three little scrapes and tho I
really am inclined to think he was not the aggressor yet
the habit of getting into scrapes generally indicates the want of
a cool temper. If
Clapham
was an obscure Village I should not have said a word of this, as
few villages are perhaps better supplied but he does not stay long
in a place I observe. I should /think him/ not fit for so
enlightened –
Patty
would say critical congregation as Clapham. Pray present
my best regards to
Mr. Daltry *
and tell him I begin to fear I must wait till we meet in a better
world before I shall /enjoy/ that long indulged wish of making his
acquaintance
I entertain better hopes as to seeing you and your admirable
friends
if it please God to spare me till the Summer I beg my most
affectionate respects to them and love to dear
Lucy
who is to be of the
Barley Wood
party.
Your
extreme
true kindness in writing me so affectionate a letter,
when dear Lucy was so ill
was gratifying to me.
I have now heard from
Mrs. Macaulay
that she is doing well,
but that you are under some anxiety for the valuable health of
Mrs. Inglis . This gives me great concern which I am sure you will remove, if
you can, by informing me that she is better. Her life is so
important not only to the more intimate companion of her joys and
sorrows, but to all
his adopted family
that I cannot think of any serious illness befalling her without
taking the deepest interest in it.
I have frequently lamented that one of the worst effects of
sickness or sorrow is, that it is apt to induce selfishness, but
on this occasion I have not realized my own idea.
I have received about a hundred letters full of kindness and
condolence, and many of them, of piety – but I have felt myself
utterly unable to answer them – You will be so kind as make this
true apology to any friends who may think themselves
neglected.
My health has been very bad, and neither body or mind has yet
made much progress, the former I hope is most in fault, for
I bless God my mind is I trust unrepining and submissive,
but it is still very weak. I am forbid by my
Doctor to see company, for which I am
thankful as
I have no heart to see any but two or three particular
friends in my own room – for talking brings back the complaint
in my chest.
Your excellent
Mr. Dealtry
kindly
promises to come to see me from
Bath
–
I hope it will not be till I am much better, as I should be
sorry to see him only for an hour in my chamber which
is all I can yet do.
It is grievous too that
Lord
and
Lady Teignmouth
should be at
Clifton
at this time – It is many years that we both looked
forward to seeing those dear friends for a few days, and
[deletion] now I can so little profit by their neighbourhood is
painful to me.
Thanks for your very kind and interesting letter.
We were all deeply affected with
Henry Venn
and all the circumstances which accompanied his introduction into
his sacred Office.*
May he, in living and preaching be the exact representative of
his excellent Father’s.
Such fathers as his and
yours
have left a high Standard to which I trust it will be the study
and the delight of the children of both families to act up. It is
a great thing even where we cannot say we have altogether
attained to be always pressing forward. I doubt not I
shall admire
Mr. Dealtry’s
Sermon* as I do every thing that comes from his pen, his
head, and his heart. I should be sorry if they had diluted it. I
do not approve of that prudence which is apt to put
‘trop d’eau dans le vins de peres.’ * In my poor judgment it is not easy to be too strong
on the delinquencies of the present times – When we adopt
excessive moderation to the few we are guilty of cruelty to the
many – I should prefer the Sermon glowing and animated as you
heard it, to the more lowered cautious production, after it had
passed thro the hands of the nibbling and lapping critics.
Take notice I write upon your information for I have not yet seen
the Sermon in question. I have had much anxiety on the subject of
Mrs. Inglis . Her life is so valuable that one cannot think without deep
concern of any thing likely to affect it. I beg my kind regards to
them both, and tell
Mr. Inglis
how much I felt the sympathizing kindness of his affectionate
letter.
I am now beginning to answer with my own pen a few of the
overflowing number I have received. I have deeply felt the
affectionate kindness of many though I have not been able to
acknowledge it.
My eyes are better, but I am not yet able to use them by candle
light, which now fills a large portion of ones time.
Mrs.
Macaulay
and her daughter* who have been with me near a Month
have most kindly supplied my lack of sight.
Alas! it is Newspapers that now fill too much of ones time and
thoughts. I tremble for our country politically and morally. I do
not know my own nation we certainly are not that England
I once knew, and must always love. I look to
the death of the king as the completion of our calamities .
Rivington
has asked leave to collect into
a [tear]le cheap book the Tracts and ballads agai[nst] [tear]
Se[dition] [tear] and blasphemy I wrote in the last year or two,
as they will now come from the Organ of Orthodoxy,
I hope they may make their way,
you must recommend the dispersion of them to all who come in
your way
I shall order one to be sent to
Mr.
Inglis .*
I expect your friend Zachary this day ; from him I expect to hear a great deal about you all.
I hope dear Lucy has quite recovered her
strength.
My love to the [sic] all, and to the
ancient Burton
when you see him. I hope she continues staunch. Do let me hear
from you sometimes –
a letter costs you little or nothing and it is great pleasure
to me
–
I owe some expression of love and gratitude to almost every
Grant.
I do love them all cordially.*
Be sure write your next on a good handsome Sheet, they made me
pay double for the two small pieces received last night.
Such a letter as your last should not have been unanswered a
day, if I could have commanded my time, but in different ways
I have really been working double tides. So much company,
such an over-flow of letters,
to say nothing of a presumptuous book of between
5 and 6 hundred pages hurried over in a few Months.
* – It will be abused, and I am prepared for it.
I hope Hatchard has by this time sent it
you as I directed before publication
Professor Farish
who was here the other day gave us an interesting account of your
Bible Meeting. I rejoyce that Episcopal tyranny could not defeat your pious
labours. I have heard such stories lately from that quarter, as I
had rather repeat than write.* –
We too in our little way had a most prosperous
Meeting* 40 Clergymen &c – 120
dined at Barley Wood in the Garden chiefly, and 200 drank tea –
I shall thankfully forwards your kind Subscriptions
to the French Translation, as soon as I am informed
that my former one was received. * They frightened me by calling the Tracts
Contes Moraux, that Rogue Mamontal’s Title I have as I think I told you
prefixed the Epithet
Nouveaux
which I think will obviate it.* The priests are very
watchful and we must be prudent. I have got in
the Conservateur, as well as the News papers of
Paris, such abuse of the
Bible Society!* – Poor
Dr. Hamilton ! his society was rather too much for you! Painful recollections
must have been inseparable from the sight of him. – And there is
no hope!*
I cannot express to you how much I was gratified with the
long, interesting and very pleasant journal with which
Miss Sparrow favoured me . But though the letter in itself was in high degree pleasing yet
the circumstance of a very young lady situated as she is, and
occupied as she was finding time and disposition, and will, and
kindness to bestow so much attention on an old friend, merely
because she knew it would give /pleasure,/ is a trait of character
truly delightful; the kindness was not lost upon me, and if I
could I would love her better than I did before.
I will not keep back, as I had intended, my letter for a cover
tho’
we are expecting within a few days, three frankers, and also
dear friends in succession; for our small
Accommodations do not extend to many guests at once – These
are the Secretary for Ireland,*
the Bishop of Gloucester and
Mrs. Ryder , and the
Bishop of St. Davids - I woud
have waited to tell you about them, were I not desirous to
answer the private part of your letter which indeed I
ought not to have delayed so long.
Two such very very kind and interesting
letters merit to be acknowledged with a gratitude proportionate
to their value.
Thank you cordially for the account of
your Royal Society. I delight in the prospect of improving good in the amiable
character of the Duke. you fill me with a hope of his growth in
piety.*
His Mother had a strong friendship for me
I always saw a great deal of her when in town, and in a long
illness when I was not able to answer her, she never failed to
write to me every week.
*
I have received a very sensible and rather pious letter from
Princess Sophia just now. * I believe both brother and Sister want only right
Society and Christian friends to make them all we could wish. [Two
lines of deletion]
A kind, agreeable, long and interesting letter from dear
Miss Sparrow
should be answered directly but that I am in deep arrears to
your Ladyship.
Nothing can be more obliging than her little details, than
which nothing makes letters so pleasant.
Public events are just now of so complicated & overwhelming a
nature that even to touch upon /them/ would fill my paper and
occupy your time to little purpose. I truly pity
the K–* How surely does God at one time or other visit our
errors and bring our sins to remembrance! How he will get
extricated the wisest seem not to know.
I have just got a letter from a friend whose habits lay open
much information to him.
He tells me that a Gentleman of his acquaintance on whom the
firmest reliance may be placed is lately come from the Continent.
Passing through a small town in
Italy
he stopped at an Inn and desired to see a good bed. On being shown
one, he said it was not large enough for him and his Wife –"Not
large enough," said the Mistress of the Inn, "why
the Princess of Wales
and the Baron her Chamberlain Slept in it last week, and so they
have done twenty times before and they never complained that it
was too small." You don’t mean that they slept together said the
gentleman? Yes replied the woman I do, as they have always done."
One or two such testimonies woud be proof positive. But then in
what a distracted state would it place this poor country.*
– I fear we are emulating
France
in all its parricidal horrors! What a Providential escape of the
Ministers I grieve to think what a flood of drunkenness, idleness
and perjury
this premature Parliamentary election
will introduce, – A propos.
I am desired to request your vote and interest for
Lord John Russel who is canvassing
your county. I know nothing of him, but
that I fear he is what I call, on the wrong side. They
speak well of his talents *
I have been honoured by a kind, I had almost said
affectionate letter from your friend the
Duke of G.
He spoke of you and of his visit to
Brampton
con amore,
I have had
two letters from
Princess Sophia
full of kindness and written with her usual good sense.
She was staying with
the Dss.
at
Bagshot Park.*
Many thanks for your very kind affectionate letter.
It is not, I assure from want of regard that you do not hear
from me oftener, but from causes not under my controul.
You know perhaps that I have been confined to my room, with one
fever succeeding another for more than a year and half, and
these few last Months, in which I have been so much better, have
yet been so unlike Summer weather that I have not yet been
allowed by my Doctor to take an airing in
the carriage .
I have however I am thankful to say been able to receive a
great many kind friends in succession in my room, and indeed I
have had almost too many affectionate guests, as much exertion
is bad for my chest .
The great loss to me with respect to my particular friends is
that I have such an overwhelming correspondence, applications
&c from strangers or slight acquaintance that those I best
love are most neglected by me. You among many others have come
in for a share of this neglect, which however by no means
includes forgetfulness.
I will not touch on the many painful topics which have lately
occurred – I rejoyce to find however that tho his
loss can never be supplied, dear
Owen’s family are left in comfortable
circumstances. I had feared the contrary.
–
Mr. Macaulay has lent me
his valuable Wife for a short time in the
absence of my other friend. She leaves me
to morrow.
I have always some inmate to receive my company below, write my
letters and carry on the family devotions, and read to me
What is become of you? Where are you? What are you doing? It would
indeed be more ‘germain to the Matter’ to put these interrogations
to me,
as I have long been in your debt for a delightful letter. There is another reason for your not asking where I
am,
as I am sure to be found in the bow window in my bed chamber.
It is now about two years since I have been down stairs, and I
think four years and a quarter since I have been in any house
besides my own. It is not at present that my locomotive powers
are not equal to travel down stairs, but that this unmannerly
summer – as Charles Hoare calls it, made my
good Dr. Carrick order me to
run no risque . I have however a pleasant prison, and am not anxious for a jail
delivery.
My health is much /better/ ,
thro the great mercy of God, than there was any human
probability would ever be the case; with frequent solitary
interruptions of bad nights. This is necessary to remind me
that this is not my rest, and that this short reprieve is
granted me for the great work of repentance and preparation.
I see a good deal of company in the middle of the day, too much
my Doctor thinks, but have yet had no one to sleep but the
Hoares,* and another friend.
But the Post occupies and fatigues me much /more/ than my
guests. If you saw my table most days, you would think, if I were
not a Minister of State, I was at least a Clerk in a public Office
and these pretty businesses it is,
that so often prevent my writing to those dear friends with
whom it would be my delight to have more intercourse
I find however a good deal of time to work with my hands,
while
Miss Frowd
reads for the entertainment of my head. The learned
labours of my knitting Needle are now amassing to be sent to
America to the Missionary Society* who sell them there,
and send the produce to the
Barley Wood School at Ceylon .* So you see I am still /good/ for something.
I am in your debt for two very kind and very interesting letters.
I feel all the value of your goodness to me in writing when
you have so many important avocations, and with such delicate
health.
With heartfelt /joy/ I hear of the delightful addition to your
domestic comforts in the Society of those so dear, so deservedly
dear, to you. The safe arrival of the expected little
invisible visitor will leave you nothing to desire as to
this world’s blessings.* And Oh! the joy to think that
these precious /blessings/ are not limited to this world, but thro
that divine grace which has sanctified your mercies, will extend
in their consequences /to that world/ where there will be no
interruption to their enjoyment, and no termination to their
continuance
I have been above a year and half confined to my room. I bless
God I do not feel any impatience to quit it, which they will not
allow me to do till the warm weather is confirmed. I am
generally able to see my friends two or three hours in the
middle of the day. They are very kind, but my Physician
complains that I see too much company.
This is sometimes the case, but when they come from a distance,
I cannot refuse seeing them; I have /had/ no one to dinner or
sleep. The Bp of Gloucester indeed is a
privileged person. If any do come My friend entertains
them below.
I am rather more than usually unwell to day, but I would
no longer delay to intreat you my dear Lady to think no
more of my little begging petition. If any apology were
necessary your immense building expences would be more
than sufficient, but none is necessary.
I have just received my little legacy from Mrs.
Garrick* which will carry me thro’ the exigencies of
the present season sufficiently, and I may not live to another.
Your charities are too extensive to excuse any one from proposing
new ones to you;
Even in my little way I find five applications for one
I used to have, what then must yours be!
I have been thinking much of you lately and have wished to
write to you, but I did not know exactly where to address you
till yesterday.
Tho’ after a bad night I am hardly able to hold a pen, I
cannot let the post go without a line. Would that my most cordial Sympathy could be any comfort to you
and dear
Henry. You do not however want human consolation, you both deserve it
from a higher Source. What a comfort to your dear brother to feel
that he has in no degree contributed to the misfortunes by which
he is so severe a sufferer.*
May he may derive [sic] no small comfort from that goodness of
God which enables him to act with such pure integrity and to
submit with such Christian resignation to events which he could
neither prevent nor correct .
I shall most gladly receive you both, the change will do you
good . I am glad you talk of a fortnight hence,
as I am to have a set of holiday folks, whom I have promised
and cannot put aside . On the 27 I shall be most happy to receive you both with your
merry young One – I hope this may suit you – Do write again – You
are in my heart and in my prayers –
I forgot to ask
Wilberforce
where to write to him – he has left
Bath
– he said he had no home ready for him, but talked of some
Mr.
Shaw
*
You will see /by/ my scrawl that I cannot recover the free
[use] of my hand, I cannot use it with impunity.
I hope yourself and family continue to enjoy health and all other
needful blessings
My own health is so far restored that if I were a disciple of
Prince Hoenloe I shall be reckoned a
Miracle
The foregoing scrawl was written near a fortnight ago, and I
literally have not been able to finish it.
Wrington Bible Meeting had its Anniversary on thursday last I have
a large dinner on that day to the distant friend I invite and to
the neighbours. Curates who cant afford half a guinea at the
public dinner at the Inn. /Tho/ We were not so splendid this time,
as at the last Meeting, when we had two Bishops dear
Sir T. Acland
&c &c yet it was very respectably attended one of the
London Secretaries was among those who dined here; and not only
the Clericals, but some Military Men are said to have spoken well.
Vile and illegible as this
scrawl is, it must go
I was much disappointed at not having the pleasure of seeing
you on Wednesday ,
as your letter gave me room to expect. Tho your obliging letter
was dated the 2d. of July I did not receive it till
tuesday afternoon too late to answer it by post .
Your not coming on Wednesday I ascribed to the violent thunder
Storm. I then expected you yesterday and in that expectation did
not dine till four o clock.
I shall be very glad to see You and
Miss Newson* to take a family
dinner on Tuesday /next the Eleventh/ if it suits you . Pray remember me kindly to
Miss Hartley* I hope she will be of your party.
I write in haste not to lose the Post. I remain
Nothing should have caused me to /delay/ thanking you for
your very interesting and kind letter but
a painful disorder in my eyes, not the
sight but lids. For these 8 Weeks I have not read as
many pages, and I ought not to write. When my eyes
are better I hope to say more, and express my /interest in/
all your concerns, as nothing that relates to you can be
indifferent to me.
I feel it a sort of shame to take charity Money from a County
Member*, whose unbounded liberality I well know is
not shut up within the limits of that County.
– My Man
Charles
is out from four in the morning to endeavour to buy 100 sacks of
Potatoes. On hearing it the Farmers raised the price!! I am turned
Merchant
They ask me for bread and give me a Stone*. I am purchasing their Ore* at half price
which I trust will sell hereafter.
Be so good as speak to the King, and
desire him with my Compliments to use brass Harness, it would
become the fashion and my Miners would become Gentlemen
– all the Geology /I know/ is that Lapis Calaminaris makes brass,
so you see I am not /one/ those Scientific people who do not turn
their knowledge to account. Present me most affectionately to dear
Lady Acland
– In great haste
I shall come to town next Monday and shall be glad if you can do
me the favour of calling on me in the
Adelphi* either at three o clock or Six as
I am making some changes in my plan which it is not easy to
explain by letter
I began this scrawl several days ago as you will see by the
dates, but indisposition and other interruptions have
prevented my finishing it.
Our Seraphic friend Way has left us. He seems to me not so much to
be going to heaven but to be already there.
I am a little alarmed for him, tho his Mind is perfectly well,
yet he is so compleatly absorbed in the great Object*
he has in hand that I fear it will wear him out.
His Mind is so imbued, I may say so saturated with Scripture that
one does not want one’s Bible whence he is. We kept him very
quiet, but in no company that he might gain rest and composure as
he is gone on to preach at several Churches in this district. We
had talked of you in public in a general way as to your health,
where you were &c – but before his departure I took him
aside and asked if he had heard from you lately, and when you were
coming to
Clifton. He set my mind much at rest by saying he had not heard anything
about you for some time; now as he was just come from
Bath, Clifton &c I comforted myself that the thing is not so much
discussed as you feared. I have also seen
the Powis’s who dined here
but not a word was said which might lead to the Subject.
I trust this transient cloud will soon be dispersed and your
mind restored to its firm tone, I should rather say your nerves,
for your mind seems to have possessed its full vigour in this
transaction
I have no impertinent curiosity but shall be gratified to know
hereafter, that all terminated to your satisfaction I am
grateful to God that the young person herself has conducted
herself so unexceptionably. Such an experience may tend to
strengthen her character beyond a hundred fine theories.
I must write one line to thank for
your two letters ,
which I do with the more pleasure because they were written in so
good a hand, so neat and free from blots. By this obvious
improvement you have intitled yourself to another book.
You must go to Hatchard’s and chuse. I
think we have nearly exhausted the Epics. What think you of a
little good prose? – Johnson’s Hebrides*
or
Walton’s Lives* – unless you would like
a neat Edition of Cowper’s Poems * or of
Paradise Lost* for your own
eating* – In any case chuse something which
you do not possess.
– I want you to become a complete Frenchman that I may give you
Racine
the only Dramatic Poet I know in any modern language that is
perfectly pure and good.* On second thoughts what say
you to
Potter’s Eschylus * on attendant that you are a complete Grecian? – It
is very finely done and as heroic as any of your Epics. If you
prefer it Send for this to
Hatchard’s
neatly bound.
I think you have hit off the Ode very well, I am much obliged
to you for the Dedication . I shall reserve your translation to see how progressive your
improvement is. Next Summer if it please God I hope We shall talk
over some of these things. Remember me kindly to
Your Pappa
and
tell him I cannot say how much I am obliged to him for his
kindness to poor Shepherd *.
He has made the Widow’s heart to sing for joy* – O Tom! that is better, and will be found so in the
long /run/ to have written as good an Ode as
Horace
himself*.
My good friend
Miss Frowd
is so kind as to take the pen from me,
as my eyes are not equal
to say more
than that I am my
dear Madam
faithfully yours
H More
Adieu my dearest Lady Olivia.
I have not written so long a scrawl for many Months I fear you
will scarcely decypher it.
Ever most truly, faithfully and affectionately
Your Ladyship’s humble Servant
Hannah More
I return you many thanks in behalf of the poor and needy and
him that is ready to perish for your kind benefaction of £25.
I should not have delayd this so long, but that
the day I received it arrived here
Lord C. and
his Sister
*
and Mr. Wilberforce . This has
fully occupied me for the last three days.
They are just gone I not only could find no time to write, but
I wished to defer it till I could say something about
them.
Ld. C. looks well, and tho he is not, as you know
naturally communicative and gay yet he seemed not to labour
under the same depression of spirits, but seemed to take an
interest in the conversation without much joining in it.
Not a word passed on a certain subject of course. Your name was
never once pronounced when we were together, nor did Mr.
W. when we were alone once advert to it nor in any particular
manner to the late indisposition. Miss C. when we were alone
incidentally mentioned your name several times on indifferent
subjects, and mentioned with much feeling, that you had been kind
and useful to her unfortunate deceased brother.* In
short no bystander would have suspected that any thing
extraordinary had passed.
Ld. C. is still slower of speech than usual but that
is all.
Unfortunately,
Dr. Perry * in whom they seem to place extreme confidence has a
bad paralytic stroke. This seems likely to shorten their stay at
Bath. Tho in fact there is little /or/ nothing in what I have said
yet I thought you would like to hear that little. I believe both W
and I were equally afraid to broach the Subject and perhaps as
things are irrevocably fixed, it was as well not. No one I have
seen from
Clifton
or elsewhere has ever said a word on the subject; this shows that
it is not generally known, otherwise it would be talked of. So I
hope you will cheer up and be comfortable and happy.*
I woud not ask Mr.
W for a Frank lest he should suspect I was on the look-out for
intelligence.
I sat in continual fear lest your name should escape me – Burn
this
I feel deeply for him on various Accounts. Independent of private
views and personal interests, the Christian world would be
affected by any serious and lasting injury to his mind. I pray God
to avert it.
Set your heart at rest about your letter. It is destroyed, as
all shall be which treat on delicate subjects.
I write a hasty line to take advantage of
Mr. Addington ’s Patent Frank* to send you a Specimen of my
learned labours.
I was earnestly desired by some high persons to do something
towards an Antidote for the evil Spirit of insurrection which is
at work more busily perhaps than you are aware.
The Tract inclosed I have adapted to the present
times , and it is widely circulated.*
Perhaps you would like to order some copies from
Hatchard, and recommend Your Friends to do
the same.
The
Harfords
were with me when
your very welcome letter arrived.
– Come! come! I shall be most happy to see you and dear
Sophia, and not the least glad to see my dear
Ancient Burton, the last I believe left in this land of nunnery abroad. Tell
Sophia
that
Mary
is very glad at the prospect of having such a helper in cleaning
and cooking, and I will pay her wages for hard work by giving her
a kiss every morning. I am glad you go to the
Harfords
first – as soon as you arrive there send me a line to
warn the welcome hour when I may expect the really great
gratification of seeing three such dear Creatures. It was
certainly my
Goddaughter’s
turn.*
If I scribble on I may lose the Post
– so
God bless you all with the best of his blessings, grace and
peace.
When have I written so long a Scrawl? But I am not willing our
correspondence should dwindle on my part. – You cannot image how
overdone I am with letters –
when I am very poorly I sit and moon over the unanswered heap
instead of taking courage and getting rid of the debt: It
hardly leaves me any time for reading; especially when my Eyes
are bad – they are better thank /God/ .
I shall expect at least half a dozen Epistles, not as fair
barter but as liberal commerce, for this long and I fear hardly
intelligible scrawl. Besides telling me what you read, and who
you see, you are still surrounded by a society (but oh how
thinned) whom I know and love, while those about me are
unknown to you, and would excite little interest were it not so.
When you write pray mention
how Robert Grant is. He gave us two
pleasant days some weeks ago but was not quite well.
I coud not answer your letter sooner.
As you seem to wish to furnish
Tracts
for this Month I will say no more against /it/ but I hope you will
allow it to drop afterwards. –
Hazard
writes me he can get no
3d.
part of
Cannardly.
No
Prayers
nor
1st Hester Wilmot
Nor
7 Part Bragwell
– He suggests that Editions of these & some others shoud be
printed
I have been long wishing to write to you but was prevented
[deletion] by
many weeks of disqualifying fever and its attendant
sufferings .
Thro the mercy of God I am much better, that is I am got back
nearly to my usual state of moderate suffering .
My Sister Patty is very poorly
with that alarming determination of blood to the head which is
so much the reigning complaint.
May it please our infinitely gracious God by these awakening calls
to remind us how short our time is, and to prepare us for a change
which must soon take place!
Mrs. Waldegrave
by the desire of my dear
Lady W.
just before her death announced to me her departure.
Her dying behaviour was most exemplary. She lived to see her
offending, would I might say her penitent
son. She is thro much, very much
turbulation endured unto the kingdom of heaven. I never
witnessed such a life of trials. They have been sanctified to
her. I feel much for her death tho I cannot regret it. It closes
for ever my connexion with Strawberry hill. * There is no family in so many branches of which I
have found such zealous friends.
Lady W
herself, her Sister
Lady Easton , her Mother
the Duchess of Gloucester , her Uncle
Lord Orford, all were singularly attached to me /and my constant
correspondents/ I have seen them all go down to the grave – for
one
Alas! the
brightest of the band* I have not ceased to mourn, not on account of his
death but his unhappy prejudices against religion, tho they
never appeared either in his conversation or letters to
me.
It is now some time since dear
Mrs Hanh. More
has quite ceased from corresponding with her Friends, she has
therefore requested me to assure your Ladyship of the very great
pleasure with which she received
the late kind & affecte. Communication from
one whom she remembers with such unfeigned esteem
& regard.
Of those Friends indeed whom she yet does retain in her memory
she has the most kind & warm recollections, but it is the
Will of the Almighty that this faculty of her mind
should visibly & rather rapidly decline; its amiable
qualities however remain in full vigour, & as her
benevolence is still exercised in a degree only limited by the
very utmost extent of her pecuniary ability, her prolonged life
is a great blessing to very many.
The recollections too of the truly beneficial purposes to which
she employed her fine intellect when it was in full vigour, must
endear her to all who estimate talents only as their influence is
exerted for the glory of the great Grace, & the benefit of His
creatures –
she has still many cheerful spirits & is very open to
enjoyment & to the attentions of those immediate friends who
surround her, with whom she is generally able to converse
Collectedly & very pleasantly but as
the introduction of Strangers now bewilders & fatigues
her, it is deemed, by those who love her best & therefore
consider her most, advisable to admit none but very old &
intimate acquaintances to intercourse with her, altho’ to
enforce such a restriction requires (it is found) a very
Strenuous and determined effort, & brings upon
Miss Frowd, the kind & affecte.
friend who constantly lives with her, some reproach & ill
will .
My Sister
& myself inhabit a house not fifty Yards from her abode,*
& see her some part of most days, indeed are frequently her
intimates.
I feel it necessary to apologise for this intrusion, but hope that
the motive which has prompted it may obtain its excuse.
Your Ladyship must be well aware that our dear Friend
Mrs. Hanh. More
has a considerable number of your letters to her, in her
possession ; these letters, as well as those of many other of her valued
correspondents, she has been fond of looking over, but being no
longer capable of exercising the same care & caution as
formerly, she suffers them to lie scattered on her Table, liable
to the inspection of any person who may have more curiosity than
honour. We have however, prevailed upon her to deposit your
letters Madam, with those of
Mr. Wilberforce
&c with us, & they are at present in our
possession – I can with truth affirm unread.
I would therefore take the liberty of proposing a reciprocal
exchange of your Ladyship’s &
Ly. Mandeville’s
letters to dear Mrs
H More, & of her’s to you, all those passages in her’s which
relate to any private or confidential matters being of course
previously obliterated: our dear Friend has authorized us to
make similar applications to some of her Friends which we have
done in many instances successfully.
It will very much add to the interest of her future Memoir, the
materials for (which we propose to place in the hands of an able
Editor) that it should be enriched by a selection of her letters
& we candidly avow that it would be highly desirable &
serviceable to us, to obtain thro’ the kindness of some of her
intimate correspondents an early possession of as large a
portion of her letters as is possible, in order that we may
while we have leisure select a few from each parcel of
those which are the most interesting & worthy of insertion –
